


Hand in Hand, the Circle of Life moves

by BundleOfScarves



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blind!Connor, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor has malfunctions, Connor lies a lot, Connor's bad health, Deaf!Connor, Father-Son Relationship, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Heavy Angst, Kamski fixes CyberLife, Major Spoilers, Muscular short circuit, Other, Panic, colorblind connor, connor is adopted, gavin reed is less of a dick, lots of feelings about a stubborn robot who refuses to let people care for him, mute!connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:30:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfScarves/pseuds/BundleOfScarves
Summary: Connor was a prototype, he wasn't supposed to last for hundreds of years like the other models. He was designed for a short term job. His job is done, and slowly but surely his body will reflect that. Good thing that Kamski has foreseen this issue with Androids, and even that they might want to exchange their body for another, say a child wanting to finally be able to grow up?Welcome to the Exchange of Life, a body trading and alteration program for Androids run by Elijah Kamski himself.aka a CyberLife fix it fic, with some feel good Dad Anderson and Connor being his awkward self + emotions.





	1. Reboot

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the idea that androids can transfer consciousness, as is shown in the CyberLife tower if Hank is shot and Connor swaps bodies with the new Connor. Thought it might be interesting if all androids could do that but just didn't know it. 
> 
> Connor was a prototype, he wasn't supposed to last for hundreds of years like the other models. He was designed for a short term job. His job is done, and slowly but surely his body will reflect that.

It was two months after the revolution that Connor began to notice the lagging in his system. Booting after coming out of sleep mode took longer, occasionally there would be static in his audio receivers, and most concerningly of all was the times that his thirium pump would skip a beat jolting his stress levels up every time. He stayed quiet about these issues, something in his gut telling him that it wasn’t the right time to say anything. 

It was two and a half months after the revolution that Kamski unveiled his latest ambitious project after retaking control of CyberLife. The Exchange of Life he called it. Not many Androids were aware of it, but given the time needed, they could transfer their consciousness into another body, swapping with the other’s body. Or if needed, they could be uploaded to the CyberLife server, to be downloaded into a new body. Connor was used to this concept as it had occurred 50 times before for him. 

Kamski offered an organized program where Androids, specifically child models or old discontinued models could essentially trade bodies with another android or be downloaded into a new body that had not yet been loaded with a program. For the children androids, it meant that they had the option to grow up. This also meant that if CyberLife needed to discontinue any lines, they would not be endangering the lives of all those who had been born from that model. The Androids were overjoyed at the opportunity, and many took to the streets that night to celebrate, proclaiming to the night sky their happiness. 

Hank knew that this meant a lot for many of the Androids but hadn’t really given it a thought in relation to his adopted son Connor. He had found Connor after the revolution, outside the Chicken Feed stand, stood outside for hours every day waiting and hoping. His hunch had been correct and Connor had returned home with him, ever grateful for the place to stay. 

Over the two months between the revolution and today, Connor learns to accept that the things he did for CyberLife were not his choices and he is not to blame. He still wakes up from nightmares every other week, coming too nearly screaming in the dead of the night. Sumo is always there for him, even if sometimes he wakes to find that the Lieutenant has gone to drink once Connor had fallen asleep. 

It took Connor weeks to be able to allow the update to be installed allowing him to even go to sleep. But now he welcomes sleep, as it means he is able to go through the night without going crazy of boredom. He returns to the precinct a month after the revolution, and things seem to be good. Crazy of course, but good. 

But today, today is not good. Connor tries booting for the third time, to receive the same errors:  
>SOFTWARE MALFUNCTION<  
>COMPONENTS ONLINE, STASIS MAINTAINED, ALL PROCESSING POWER DIVERTED TO ERROR<  
>AUDITORY SENSORS RUNNING AT 50% POWER<  
>OPTICAL SENSORS RUNNING AT 12% POWER<

>REBOOT REQUIRED<

And he is in the dark again. He tries not to panic. It would not help the situation. 

>>REBOOTING…  
>>SYSTEMS CHECK  
>ERROR  
>ERROR  
>ERROR

>>RERUN SYSTEMS CHECK  
>...  
>SUCCESSFUL  
>SUCCESSFUL  
>SUCCESSFUL

>CPU REROUTED

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE  
>WARNING: LOWER STRESS LEVELS<

Connor’s eyes flutter open, wide as he sucks in a breath. He’s in bed. In his room. Hank is standing in the doorway.

“Well? Are you getting up or what? We’re gonna be late, you slept in.” Hank gripes. Once he sees that Connor is awake he starts to turn away to get ready. He pauses, popping his head back in the door. “You okay?” 

“I’m just fine Dad, let’s get going” Connor replied, masking the shake in his voice as he gets up, coughing slightly. Hank lifts and eyebrow but doesn’t ask. He gets ready quickly, and Connor barely has time to ruminate over what happened before they’re in the car on the way to work.

The spring has sprung in Detroit, and normally Connor is staring out the window in childlike glee at the sprouts of green that can be spotted. But today he is still and silent caught up in thought about what happened. He’d have to find a time to run a full diagnostics, he didn’t want that to happen again, it makes him sick to his stomach with fear to think about being unable to wake up. 

He changes his alarm to go off earlier tomorrow in case it happens again. But then again, he might just not sleep. Maybe he shouldn’t, just to be safe. 

The next week passes quietly, and Hank stops watching Connor so carefully. Connor doesn’t sleep for two nights before working up the courage to sleep again. He wakes up like normal the next day. He begins to doubt whether his inability to boot had just been a nightmare, or if it had actually happened. His diagnostics show that everything is fine. He does not feel fine. 

The next time something happens, it’s at the office, and Connor prays that Hank does not see him from Fowler’s office. He’s looking at casefiles when the edges of his vision begin to become grainy. He sees and hears a popup warning him that power to his optical units is dropping. Connor freezes, fear coiling in his stomach. No, not now. Gavin is looking at him funny. 

Connor pretends to scroll through files intently, moving his eyes like normal, but how much he was actually seeing was quickly fading. He blinks and suddenly it was like someone had flipped a lightswitch and he could not see anything. He did his best not to panic, thinking back to the reboot issue from a few weeks ago now. Just give it time, he thinks to himself. Nervously, he swallows, a habit he’d picked up from the humans he’d been around. He blinked a few more times, and still, saw nothing. 

He could hear movement in the office, and tried to pinpoint the tell tale sound of Gavin’s feet. He hears only the other officers though thankfully. A file lands on his desk, the sound making Connor jump a bit. 

“Oh, sorry Connor, thought you saw me.” Tina says apologetic, seeing him jump. Connor turns toward the sound, guessing at where the file landed and locking his eyes onto that location. 

“It’s okay, I’m just really focused today Tina.” Connor said, smiling slightly. He hoped that she would go away. 

“Alright well I’ll leave you to it.” She says cheerily and walks away. Connor blinks and with a jolt of power he could see again. It was slightly distorted, colors off in hue a bit, but aside from that, seemed to be fine. Gavin narrows his eyes at Connor from across the office but then turns back to his work. Seems that Detective Reed had been watching him. Connor wasn’t sure what to make of it, but decided to worry about it later because Hank was coming back from Fowler’s office. 

Connor fakes a smile when Hank asks if he was ready to go home, he wasn’t but didn’t want to ask the lieutenant to stay any longer than he had to. It was time to go home and cuddle with Sumo. Hank sees the way that the smile doesn’t quite reach Connor’s eyes, and on that note, Connor’s eyes appear to have slightly changed in color. In the car on the way home, Hank finally speaks up.

“Hey so, you remember when we were chasing Kara and Alice?” Hank starts nonchalantly

“Uhm, yes. Why do you ask, Hank?” Connor replies, mind still on other things.

“She had cut her hair, and even changed the color, just by accessing her options. Can eye color be changed that way?” Hank asks innocently. Connor frowns. He did not like that the conversation was about eyes and particularly color. His own vision had still not recovered all of it’s usual colors. He was missing a few. 

“I don’t think so Hank. The reason why Markus has two different eyes is because he replaced one after being damaged.” Connor replies flatly. Can’t let Hank know about his eyes. Hank would be so worried, and Connor just got his stress levels to an acceptable daily amount. “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, it’s nothin, just a thought.” Hank brushes it off. Now it’s Connor’s turn to be worried. Did Hank notice anything? He hoped not, but Connor still didn’t understand his Dad sometimes. 

Over the next few days, Connor is on high alert for any sort of malfunction in his system and finds almost nothing. His colors still don’t fully return and out of curiosity one late night after Hank goes to sleep, he takes a color blindness test online. He’s missing red and green according to the test, a common mix for human males to not be able to see. He hopes that Hank does not notice. Unfortunately for Connor, that is not the case. 

Hank and Connor are enjoying some time together around breakfast, when Hank shows Connor an ad for some sort of post christmas holiday decorations sale. The advertisement is printed in red lettering, over a green background. Connor can’t see it at all, it’s all one vaguely blue block. 

“Here, hang on to this while I clean up and then we can go.” Hank hands him the tablet and then heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Hey Connor! What was the discount on that ad again? I forgot, tryin to decide if it’s worth the trip.” Hank yells from in the bathroom. Connor looks at the ad, but can’t see it. He doesn’t know what to do. Hank finishes brushing his teeth, noting the lack of reply. 

He comes back out, frowning at the back of Connor’s head. He’s curled up, face inches from the tablet as he stares intently at the ad. Hank clears his throat a little, and Connor jumps. He looks a bit bluer than usual and hands hand back the tablet wordlessly. 

In big bold letters it says 80% off. Hank looks at the ad and then at Connor quizzically. “Can’t you read this?” Hank asks, concerned. Connor doesn’t look at him. He hold the tablet back out to Connor. “What’s the percentage, right there Connor?” Connor won’t look at the tablet. He pulls his legs up onto the couch with him, starting to wrap his arms around them, trying to lower his stress levels. Hank sees the stress reaction clear as day. He comes around the couch to sit by Connor. 

“Son? Is everything okay?” Hank is genuinely concerned now. Connor scoots away a small bit, he doesn’t want to be comforted right now. 

“Just peachy, can we go to work now?” Connor says quietly, his face a mask. Hank’s brows come together but after a moment of consideration he sighs and gets up to get his coat. Connor follows silently. The car ride is tense. When they get there, Hank locks the door as Connor tries to open it. Connor purses his lips as he tries his best to not look at Hank. But Hank is having none of that. 

“Connor. Connor look at me.” Hank says firmly. Connor tries to open the door again, pulling on the lock, but Hank anticipated that, and locks it again quickly. Connor huffs, slightly angry. He doesn’t want to upset Hank, he doesn’t want to tell him. Finally, he looks at Hank silently. 

“It’s okay if you can’t see perfectly, I just need to know if it’s a problem. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable son.” Hank says, and his logic makes sense. Connor knows he won’t accept some bullshit answer so instead he provides Hank with a half truth. 

“I can’t see red or green anymore. They’re gone. Happy?” Connor says, and it comes out more angry than he had intended. He refuses to mention that he was temporarily blind before that. Hank considers him for a moment, before unlocking the doors and letting Connor escape into the station. 

The next day, Connor and Hank arrive at work, and for some reason, the colors of the text in the reports and in the signage around the station seem easier to distinguish. Connor frowns, but chalks it up to the possibility that his system was compensating for the color loss. When they arrive home that next night, Connor sees that the tv even looks clearer, but the print on Hank’s beer bottle is still just as hard to read. It dawns on him that perhaps Hank asked for the stations’ systems be colorblind friendly and that he even changed his tv’s settings earlier this day. 

He looks over at Hank, whose eyes are glued to the game and smiles warmly. Hank notices out of the corner of his eye, and the edge of his mouth tips up in a sly smile for a moment and then it’s gone. If Connor hadn’t been watching him, he’d have thought maybe he’d imagined it.


	2. Stabilize

 

 

Connor feels like crap. He thinks for one awful moment he might be sick before remembering that he can’t get sick. He’s not sure what the issue is but everytime he moves at any semblance of a normal pace, he feels sick. The feelings persist through most of the day, and Connor is incredibly glad that Hank is away for the day, doing some overtime this chilly spring Saturday morning. Connor had made up an excuse of needing to visit Markus and help with some stuff this morning when Hank shook him awake and the room had spun. 

 

Connor sits on the couch with Sumo, running diagnostics, and researching the issues that had begun to crop up over the last few weeks. He had always known that there was the possibility that his body would fail him, but he had not expected it so soon. Connor surmises that perhaps he is in shock, which is not helping his situation. After his tests turn back negative, Connor gets up painstakingly, too ansty to sit still. 

 

He makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that leaning against a counter would be more comfortable. His feet begin to drag, and he can’t stop them from doing it. The fear pools again in his abdomen, and he stops in the middle of the open space. Morbidly curious, he lifts a leg up and sees with abject horror how his foot dangles down unresponsively. He realizes that he won’t be able to walk another step without tripping over his own feet quite literally. He reaches out towards the wall, to stabilize himself, but ironically it’s just far enough away that he loses his balance.

 

He opens his eyes to see the ceiling, and a concerned Sumo hovering above him. He must have fallen. He rolls over slowly, every movement taking large amounts of power. Connor starts to panic, his breathing suddenly faster. He can’t be living this, no. This can’t be happening. He uses the panic to push his hands on the floor, his unresponsive fingers curled and splayed oddly against the tile of the kitchen floor. He barely manages to sit up, keeping upright by leaning heavily against the wall behind him that he had reached for. Slowly, he adjusts himself, using his arms to pull his legs to where the need to be. 

 

>>RUN SYSTEMS CHECK

>...

>OPTICAL SYSTEMS : SUCCESS

>AUDITORY SYSTEMS : SUCCESS

>TACTILE SYSTEMS : FAILURE

>MOTOR FUNCTIONS : FAILURE

 

>>URGENT<<<

SEE CYBERLIFE FOR ASSISTANCE

 

>>REBOOT?

 

>no

 

Connor sits still for a moment, trying to decrease his stress levels before realizing that this is the feeling of horror. He had never had the chance to feel it before this, and now he wishes he could return to not knowing it. He’s dying. He knows that now. In his weird Android way, his body was failing and he didn’t know what to do about it. He stares down at his hands, trying to move his fingers, and they barely quiver. He wonders blearily if he should try to die somewhere else, so that Hank doesn’t have to find him like this. He feels almost empty inside at the thought. 

 

Connor’s vision begins to blur and suddenly he’s crying. He’s cried before but this was the worst he’d ever cried. He sobs, the motions wracking his whole body. He smacks the back of his head against the wall and lets out a half wail. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he begins to think of the Exchange of Life. He wondered if Kamski would even let him participate in it. Connor’s sure that he could probably download himself into a new body and leave Hank alone. Surely Hank wouldn’t want Connor if he was in a different body? It’d be all wrong, Connor is sure of it. People don’t just become entirely new, it’s not right, it’s not human. Connor thinks to himself. 

 

His tears of stress turns to tears of frustration as he sits and ruminates over what he could possibly do now. He’s broken. He’s not able to do his job. He can’t be the detective his Dad wants him to be. He can’t ....be the son his father wants him to be…he doesn’t want to leave though...

 

Sumo senses the unnatural calm that falls over Connor, and quickly gets as close to Connor as possible, half crawling into his lap. Connor can barely keep him off before Sumo traps him beneath his weight. Normally Connor would have no issue moving Sumo to get up, but now he’s not sure that he could move Sumo to save his own life. He reaches out a limp hand to pet Sumo, and accepts his fate. 

 

It’s after nearly 20 minutes of petting the dog before Connor realizes that he can stretch his fingers. The movement is still slow, and takes a lot of effort, but it’s there. Connor stares at his hands in wonderment. 20 more minutes pass, and Connor can wiggle his toes! He feels like he could laugh he is so ecstatic!  He’s staring at his toes in awe and wiggling them when he realizes that Hank might be home at any moment. He carefully removes Sumo from his lap, and begins the process of trying to stand up again. He feels like perhaps it won’t be as easy as it used to be. 

 

He uses the wall for support, getting halfway up and having his legs fail him again, to land back on his butt on the kitchen floor. He just wants to scream he’s so frustrated.

 

>>WARNING STRESS LEVELS 68%

 

He dismisses the message angrily and tries again. This time, he makes it all the way up, and is clinging to the wall, afraid that his first steps will again cause him to tumble. The fear is showing in his shaking hands, but he’s determined. If he can’t do this, then how can he possibly hope to live up to what Hank needs him to be? Connor grits his teeth and lets go of the wall, taking a first ginger step. It’s nearly disastrous, as he begins to lose his balance once more, but he quickly latches onto the chair by the table. Leaning on things is preferrable he thinks to himself. 

 

But after the first step, the rest comes easier and easier. Hank still isn’t home and soon Connor receives a text of Hank apologizing that he’ll have to stay later than anticipated. He asks if Connor is done with helping Markus, and if it went well. Connor replies with “Yes, it went as well as could be expected.”  

 

He tries step after step, walking small circles around the dining room table until he feels confident enough to move the extra steps from the table to the living room. Sumo watches protectively from the couch as Connor excited skips in the kitchen, moving constantly, needing to feel like he’s okay. And for a moment he is.

 

Connor’s foot drops limp in the middle of a step, and he trips and falls onto the tile. His head smacks hard against the floor and for a moment Connor is scrambled. No no no no! Connor panics, realizing that he’d fallen again. But upon further inspection, his feet seem to be fine. Connor sits up, rubbing his head, that would probably bruise. He looks down at his hand, opening and closing his fist watching carefully.

 

Just as he had suspected, after a while of using his hand, it almost felt like a spasm as his hand stopped responding as well as it should. He could still move it, but it took way more effort, like it had on the floor earlier. If he had to guess, he thought perhaps the power to his muscular system had been damaged, and that the power now flowed irregularly, allowing for momentary loss of control. But the emotional part of him screamed that he was broken.

 

Connor slowly and shakily got off the floor, trying to decide how to approach his problem. He could tell Hank, and see if they could get any help, but he didn’t want to know how much Hank’s drinking would skyrocket if he told him. So that was a no go, Connor decided resolutely. New Mission: Hide Malfunctions from Hank. He supposed that Markus might be able to help him, considering that they were part of the same RK line. But he’s not sure if Markus would insist on telling Hank. 

 

Speaking of, Hank’s car rolled into the drive, and Connor quickly looked around, tidying up what few things he messed up during his falls. He looks down at himself and realizes that he never changed out of his sleep clothes, and that would be suspicious. He moves quickly to his room, being careful to not push himself too much, and changes into whatever is on top of his drawers. He comes out of his room just as Hank is coming in the front door, looking at Connor curiously. 

 

“How was your day with Markus?” Hank asks, starting to take his coat off. Connor thinks for a moment. 

 

“It was nice, just did a lot of small things this time.” Connor said calmly. He knew how to lie when he needed to, and now that his LED was gone, it couldn’t give him away. Hank perks up an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. He grabs a beer from the fridge and they both make their way to the couch. Connor picks up the book he’s been reading and starts back into it, trying to pretend like everything is normal. 

 

“What took so long at the office Hank?” Connor asked after a bit, it was bothering him that Hank hadn’t talked about whatever case he’d been working. Hank looks over at him, and suddenly his eyebrow cranks up even higher.

 

“How about you tell me how you got that bruise on your head?” Hank said, worry hidden beneath a gruff exterior. Connor had almost forgotten about it already. He self consciously reached up to touch it, avoiding Hank’s eyes as he scrambled for a plausible answer. 

 

“I tripped when I was out with Markus, nothing big. Just wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” Connor replied, aiming for nonchalant. He thinks perhaps the Lieutenant didn’t believe it for a second. Hank’s mouth turned down as he continued to look at Connor. His eyebrows reached all new heights as he waited for a better answer. Connor swallowed nervously, he didn’t like when Dad saw through him. 

 

“I just tripped! I swear, stop looking at me like that!” Connor replied embarrassed, his cheeks turning blue. Hank’s face softened, and after a moment he cracks a smile. 

 

“Ha, you’re so easy to crack Connor,” Hank jokes. The words have nothing but warmth behind them but the words themselves suddenly chill Connor to the core. Cracked. Broken.That’s what he was. Connor pretends to smile at Hank’s joke and goes back to reading his book. Hank feels the change in Connor’s attitude, and takes another drink of his beer. This is certainly worrisome. 

 

The rest of the evening is quiet, Hank griping at the players on the TV, criticizing their plays. Connor is used to this, although it certainly confused him in the beginning, he’s since learned to not question quite a few of the things the Lieutenant does. Connor’s sleep subroutine is beginning to make him tired though and he decides he should probably go to sleep. Connor extracts himself from Sumo, and starts to walk to his room when he stumbles a little bit.

 

Hank gets up to get a glass of water. He sees Connor’s foot roll in the reflection of the window behind his sink. He sees Connor’s hand snap out to latch onto a wall. He sees the way Connor peeks over his shoulder to see if Hank saw, who flicks his eyes away just in time. He sees the way that Connor freezes up for a moment before shaking out his hands and receding into his room. Connor hasn’t frozen up like that since someone stuck a gun in his face after he deviated. 

 

Hank quietly drinks his water, and looks out the window, contemplating what to do to get Connor to trust him enough to tell him what is going on. He sighs, and sets the glass in the sink, turning and walking past the refrigerator to go to bed, but steps in something cold, and wet. “Ugh!” Hank mutters, lifting his foot up, but there was nothing there. But that didn’t always mean nothing, Hank knew. He was feeling particularly suspicious tonight, and decided to double check, he had a hunch he might know what it was. He took the bluelight off the top of the fridge, he had brought one home for Cole to play with when he was five. He never returned it to the station. He shook his head and flicked on the light. The small blotch of thirium lit up brightly, and it was smudged from where Hank had stept on it. Hank pursed his lips, realizing what this meant. It meant that Connor had hit his head here, or some other Android had. 

 

Perhaps it was time to fact check Connor’s stories that he seemed to be spinning. Hank could see something was clearly not right, and didn’t even want to entertain the idea of why Connor felt he couldn’t share what was happening. 

 

Both Connor and Hank laid awake for a long time that night, neither sure what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thrilled with how much attention that first chapter got in one night! Thanks guys! <3 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I intend to continue writing for this story soon! :D


	3. Testing

It is the next morning when Connor takes 25% longer to boot from his sleep mode than he should, that it occurs to him. He was a prototype. He was probably never meant to live for long, they had intentionally put in features and such that could be faulty, because he was a test piece. Connor is laying in bed, looking up at his ceiling, seeing the small glow in the dark stars that were still there from when this room had belonged to Cole. Connor thinks a lot about Cole, and lately he often wonders if he should try and fake his death as a disappearance. It might make Hank less distraught to lose him. But then he realizes that Hank’s obsession with finding him would be just as unhealthy, and despite all his grief and issues, he’s still a good detective. 

Today is a Sunday, so no work today. Connor knows that this means that Hank will probably also sleep in, so now is the best time to try running his full diagnostics. It takes nearly 2 hours, and considering that he’s awake now, and it’s still pretty early, he figures it’s a safe bet. 

>>RUN DIAGNOSTICS?  
/YES

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….0%

While the diagnostics runs, Connor pulls the duvet up so only his eyes are poking out, curled up tightly, relishing in the warmth. Logically he knew that as a computer with arms and legs, he really shouldn’t enjoy the warmth, it should mess with his processes, but yet it provided him with something warm in his heart that he couldn’t really define. And so he doesn’t refrain from the actions that bring him warmth. He counts the ways that he enjoys the heat as the progress ticks away. Petting and cuddling with Sumo, hugging Hank, blankets on his bed, curling up on the couch… The list goes on and on. 

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….15%

He’s starting to plan out what his day will be consisting of after the diagnostics when something changes. He’s not sure at first if he’s imagining it, but it feels as if all his sense of touch is fading. It’s leaving him feeling detached and he’s suddenly worried about the similarities in feeling to his previous episode. If any error messages would have come up, they’ve been overridden by the diagnostics, so Connor has no clue what kind of thing might have gone wrong. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared, he knew that his system wasn’t functional. He slid a hand out from under the covers to check for muscle issues. He continued opening and closing his hand, counting how long it took before the spasm and the lack of control. His frown only deepened when it returned nothing more than the usual results. 

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….40%

He still can’t feel anything on his skin, can no longer feel the warmth of the duvet on top of him, or the softness of the sheets. He can’t feel the hair that had been tickling his forhead earlier, but he had been too lazy to do anything about. Experimentally, Connor touches his thumb to each of his fingers, but still no register, not even the pressure registers. He supposes that of all the ways to go, perhaps being numb is the nicest ways. He’s starting to pull his arm back under the duvet when it occurs to him that it’s rather quiet. Abnormally quiet. Normally the sheets make the smallest of sounds when he rustles and moves about. But not this morning. 

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….65%

Dread settles on him, like dust on a forgotten corpse. He put his hand back into sight, and resolutely snaps his fingers. It is silent. Connor’s heart stops for a moment and he wishes that he had said goodbye to Hank. But he quickly chastises himself for being so weak. Remember the new mission. Save Hank from this heartache. Do not give him more reasons to drink. If Connor could hear, he would have noticed Sumo scratching at his door, having heard the snap.

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….85%

If Connor could hear, he would have heard Hank open his door and yell at the dog to go lay down. He would have heard his Dad knock on his door and ask if he was awake. Connor just wanted to cry, his heart aching for how much he wanted this to end. He was miserable. Lying to Hank made him feel gross and Not Right. But telling him would mean that he would see that look of pain on his face, and he couldn’t stand either. As his stress levels steadily climbed, Connor began to shake, his hand in sight trembling and trying to snap occasionally. 

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….95%

Connor would have sworn if he had any control over his vocal box as he realized that his vision was becoming grainy again. It was only a matter of a half a second before his vision left him entirely. Connor could do nothing besides lay in bed, suspended in terror and darkness. He shook with fear of death and cried tears of heartache beyond his years. He wasn’t sure if he was crying aloud or not, he could not hear it. Dimly he registered that his body was being moved. 

>>SYSTEMS CHECK IN PROGRESS….100%

Connor blinks, and his vision reboots, quickly flickering back to life. He blinks wide eyed up at Hank who is holding Connor, his face creased with worry. Hank opens his mouth and says something but Connor can’t even read his lips. It’s touch that comes back next and suddenly Hank rubbing on his back and holding onto a hand is just too much. Connor scrambles backwards in panic, trying to escape the overwhelming amount of sudden tactile information. Hank lets him go, and Connor slides off the bed in a hurry, scooting to the other side of the room where he smacks himself into the corner. His legs wobble and lose power. Connor leans into the corner and slowly slides down the wall, trying to hide that he could not stand, and he is still shaking. 

Hank stays where he was, hands out in a placating gesture, and keeps trying to talk to Connor, who continues to shake where he is curled in the corner. Connor is watching Hank like a kicked dog, and it tears at Hank’s heart. 

“Connor? Are you okay? I promise I’m not gonna touch you, it’s okay son.” Hank continues, but Connor’s face never changes. It’s like he didn’t even hear him. Connor is still shaking, and Hank is starting to consider…. What? Taking him to a repair shop? Jesus Anderson, Hank thinks to himself, can’t even figure out how to properly help my own god damn son. Connor sees that Hank is watching him carefully, and he tries to open his mouth to tell Hank that he can’t hear him, and that he’s scared, oh god he’s so scared. 

But only static and garbled nonsense escape him. 

Connor’s eyes widen, he heard that! His hand returns to in front of him quicker than he thought possible and he snapped his fingers again. SNAP! He hears the crisp snap clear as day, and then just after that his own stress garbled breathing, and Sumo whining outside the door. Connor could cry again he’s so overwhelmed, but he literally has no more tears to shed. They’ve all been used up already today and they take time to accumulate. 

Hank watches Connor open his mouth, and only a garbled mess of things that were probably supposed to be words come out. Connor seems to stiffen for a flash before he’s suddenly snapping his fingers where he can see them with lazer focus. He seems satisfied by it, his body slumping down more relaxed than before. Still nowhere near actual relaxation, but better than it had been a few moments ago. Hank decides to try his luck again.

“Connor? You okay son?” Hank asks quietly and slowly starts to move forward, making sure to be steady. Connor needs him to be a rock right now. Connor’s eyes snap to his, and he looks like he just wants to cry but his cheeks are already wet with tears from a small while earlier. Connor watches him warily from his corner, as Hank gets even closer, keeping steady. 

“Is it okay if I come closer? I want to give you a hug son, please. Please let me help” Hank pleaded. Hank’s outstretched hand to Connor quivers a small bit. Connor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in and out. He reaches up silently, and takes Hank’s hand. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to stand, but he can’t exactly say no without worrying Hank more. Hank takes this as acceptance, and comes closer, only to sit on the floor next to Connor, slowly rubbing a thumb on the back of his hand. Connor doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.

“Can you talk? It’s okay if you can’t.” Hank asks gently, quietly. Even so his voice feels loud in the quiet Sunday morning air. 

“I think so?” Connor says eventually, his voice distorted and odd sounding. Hank feels a jolt of goosebumps as he realizes just how stressed Connor is right now. His voice never seems to distort unless he’s near critical stress levels. 

Connor is still cringing from the sound of his own voice when Hank asks the next question. “Can I give you a hug, or is touch too much?” 

Connor thinks this one over for a moment, pressing his thumb against his pointer finger and feeling the electric fireworks of information fire off. His system is super off in intensity of touch right now, but he desperately craves the warmth that Hank could provide for him. He feels cold now, and he shivers a small bit as he decides. 

He leans towards Hank, letting Hank pull him into his embrace and his lap, hoping that Hank does not squeeze him too tightly. If he had that much overload he feels like he might just burst right then and there. Connor lets his eyes drift shut a bit, enjoying the warmth that Hank was so graciously giving him. He wiggles his toes, feeling them brush against the floor, and knowing now that his legs are operational again. Hank is gentle and quiet, understanding quickly that things seem to be extra loud or sensitive for Connor this morning. He notices a few stray tears still on Connor’s cheek and he waits until Connor’s eyes open again to brush them away, not wanting to spook him again. 

Connor doesn’t want Hank to ask. He doesn’t want to lie. He wants to pretend that this never happened. Hank asks anyways. 

“Connor, what happened to you?” Hank asks, pain evident in his voice. Connor’s mouth quickly turns down, and if he had still had an LED Hank is sure that it would be flickering between yellow and red. 

“I believe I had a nightmare, and it must have caused an issue with my startup sequence.” Connor said eventually. It wasn’t exactly a lie, it was like a nightmare. Just an awake one, and one Connor would rather put behind him as quickly as possible. Hank watches Connor carefully as he picks his lie, and Hank wants to sigh. He knows that there is something else at play here, he just doesn’t know what. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps.” Hank tries, feeling as if he already knows the answer to this question. Connor stills immediately before answering.

“No. I’d like to forget this.” Connor says quietly, his eyes unfocused. Hank nods more to himself than for Connor and decides how they’re going to spend the rest of the day.

At the very least Hank can see that Connor is doing decently better than before, the shaking has mostly subsided. Hank helps hoist Connor to his feet, noting how the android sways as if he is losing his sense of balance before using Hank to right himself. Hank stays close as they snag the duvet from Connor’s bed and make their way to the couch. Hank has decided that today is a a day of disney movies and duvet burritoing on the couch. Connor doesn’t have the energy to argue with him, knowing that Hank will point out that he’s only nearly 6 months old so cartoons it is. 

They sit in warm quiet for the rest of the day, Connor wrapped firmly in his duvet. After some time is passed and he’s sure that Hank is out for the count, Connor pulls up the results of the scan. 

//DIAGNOSTICS TEST RESULTS   
//TEST ID (243594#247OP%13)

//OPTICAL BIOCOMPONENTS: PARTIAL DAMAGE, UNABLE TO ASSESS PERCENTAGE, PROJECTED DEGRADATION 6% PER DAY

//PROCESSORS: FUNCTIONING AT FULL CAPACITY, LOWER INPUTS OR RISK OVERHEAT

//VOCAL BOX BIOCOMPONENTS: 95% INTEGRITY MAINTAINED. PROJECTED 3% DEGRADATION PER DAY

//COOLING COMPONENTS: FUNCTIONAL

//THIRIUM: 80% PURE. REFRESH REQUIRED TO REDUCE SYSTEM CONTAMINANTS

//THIRIUM PUMP: HIGHLY PRESSURIZED, LOWER STRESS LEVELS

//THIRIUM RELAY SYSTEM: FUNCTIONAL

//TACTILE SENSORS: HARDWARE TESTS MAJORITY PASSED (78/120). SOFTWARE TESTS FAILED: (30/30)

//MOTOR FUNCTIONS: 78% RELIABLE. RISK OF ACCIDENT 40% EXERCISE CAUTION

//AUDITORY SENSORS: PARTIAL DAMAGE, UNABLE TO FULLY ASSESS. 

>>>RETURN TO CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS<<<

>>URGENT<<  
>CONTACT CYBERLIFE NOW?

 

/no

Connor dismissed the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Connor! At this rate he'll be out of commission before his 6th month being alive! But worry not, Hank isn't the only one working on fixing this. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, please let me know with a comment or Kudos, it really helps me keep the motivation to work on these things! : D   
> Love you guys, this was going to be a like 1 chapter oneshot but you guys convinced me to keep writing for it.   
> : D


	4. An Unlikely Ally

 

Connor does not want to go to work for the first time in his short life. He’s not sure how he’s going to make it through a day, let alone if they have to chase a suspect? His legs might just give out, and the thought of that is almost too much for Connor to handle. But eventually he musters the courage to roll out of bed and get ready for the day. While he picks his clothes, he thinks over the pattern he’s started to recognize in his episodes. Not only are there warning signs before issues become serious, but the timing of them is key. 

 

His first two episodes were almost 3 weeks apart. Then the next one was 2 weeks after, so he surmises that he will probably have around a week before another serious episode. One week to convince Hank that he is fine, so that he can figure out what to do. Just thinking about what his next episode might be brings back the feeling of dread settling on his shoulders like a vulture. He wishes for a brief moment that he could not feel things like dread, before sighing and admitting to himself that if he was okay with feeling things, then he had to have to whole package. He knew this. 

 

All morning, Hank kept watching Connor out of the corner of his eye, and it was putting Connor on edge. He just wanted to have a normal day, and not think about how broken his systems were. The colors were dimmer in his vision today, and it was upsetting. 

 

“Hank, I’m fine. Please stop watching me like a hawk, you’re making me uncomfortable” Connor finally says after Hank watches him pet Sumo for the entirety of his breakfast. Hank at least has the good grace to look a little embarrassed. 

 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize I was doing it. I guess you just really worried me yesterday. Are you sure you’re good? We can skip work today if you want” Hank asks innocently. Connor is certainly tempted, but here there is no escape from Hank’s watchful eye, and Connor is quite sure it would drive him up the wall today. 

 

“No, I’m fine. If you’re done, we should probably get going if we don’t want to be late.” Connor replies, continuing to pet Sumo. Hank sighs a little bit but puts away his dishes and gets ready to go. 

 

At the office, Connor holds the door open for Hank, hiding the fact that his foot lost power for .37 seconds. They slide into their desk chairs, mostly unnoticed by the other detectives, many of them still half asleep with cups of coffee in their hands. Connor feels a prickle on the back of his neck, and is aware that someone is watching him. He looks around slowly, not being obvious about what he’s doing until he locks eyes with none other than Gavin Reed. Gavin narrows his eyes a small bit, but it doesn’t appear to be anger, which confuses Connor. It almost looks like frustration for a moment before Gavin shakes his head and looks back to his work. Connor isn’t sure if he will ever quite understand that human, but at least Gavin doesn’t seem to be angry with him today, which is an improvement over past relations for sure. 

 

After an hour or two, Connor is really feeling pretty normal and it’s a nice change of pace from the frankly ridiculous amount of time he’s recently spent spiraling. He thinks perhaps he might need a break from the computer screen though as his eyes seem to get tired, and it’s harder to read things after a while. It doesn’t seem too bad, but Connor guesses that it’s a side effect to the damage his eyes maintained. He decides to go get Hank some coffee. Hank seems distracted today and he didn’t drink much coffee before they arrived. 

 

Connor quietly gets up and makes his way across the precinct to the break room, traversing right in front of Gavin’s desk. He doesn’t want to, but it’s unavoidable, it’s along his path, and it’d be more suspicious to go around than to just go by. Connor doesn’t even look at Gavin as he passes by, pretending to be lost in thought. He makes it to the break room uninterrupted, and after checking that no one is looking at him, leans on the counter to allow the spasm in his legs to pass. He grits his teeth in frustration as the spasm takes a little longer than he had expected and he hears footsteps approaching the entryway to the break room. 

 

He turns and gets a mug for Hank, starting up the coffee maker just as Gavin enters the breakroom. From this part of the breakroom, Connor is intimately aware that he and Gavin cannot be seen by the rest of the detectives at their desks. His left leg wobbles a little bit. His thirium pump tightens in fear.  

 

“Hey Connor” Gavin says lightly, reaching up into the cupboard that Connor had just gotten Hank’s cup from a moment ago. Connor is surprised. He’s not sure that Gavin had ever used his name before. 

 

“Hello Gavin” Connor replies, only hesitating a second before doing so. Gavin easily notices the hesitation though, they are all detectives after all. He pauses, pursing his lips, thinking hard for a second as he stares at Connor. Connor isn’t sure what to do, and his leg is wobbling more, so he leans against the counter again, an action many humans do when their legs are tired. It helps a lot more than Connor thought it would and he is instantly relieved. Reed seems to have decided what he wants to say. 

 

“I uh..” Gavin pauses, he looks mildly red in the face and Connor realizes that he’s embarrassed. “Look, I’m sorry I was such an ass, I had no idea that you guys were actually alive. Fuck it sounds so bad when I say it like that. It- it didn’t seem like it to me for a long time, but I guess we all see what we want to see.” He trails off, clearly still embarrassed. “Fuck, man I’m so bad at this. I didn’t even explain myself very well, but fuck it. Well, anyways I didn’t just come over here for that.” Gavin stops and thinks hard for a bit and Connor is fixed in place, watching Gavin warily, and listening for footsteps. Gavin sighs.

 

“You’re not very good at hiding it you know, whatever malfunction you have going on. I hope it’s not serious, it’d be a lot less fun around here if I didn’t have someone to pick on.” Gavin finally says, punching his coffee order into the machine. Connor feels like Gavin just gut punched him again. He’s not sure if it’s possible but if it is, he’s pretty sure the color drains from his face. Gavin looks over at him, and sighs. 

 

“So it’s bad huh? Damn. Well you’ve told Anderson right?” Gavin asks, surprisingly gentle. The liquid starts to drop into his cup as the machine hums. Gavin is staring at him, waiting for a reply. Connor doesn’t trust his voice. He slowly shakes his head after a moment. Gavin looks surprised. 

 

“Why not? He could probably find some way to help you. He got the screens changed for you after that day you freaked out.” Gavin says quickly. Connor’s eyes widen a little bit, he wasn’t sure how much Gavin had seen, but apparently he knew enough to be upsetting. He swallows nervously, a tick he had picked up from spending so much time with humans. 

 

“What do you think happened?” Connor asks, wincing at his extremely slight voice distortion. Gavin looks alarmed for a brief moment before giving Connor the benefit of the doubt. He licks his lips and looks around before answering. 

 

“Well, my guess is that you went blind for a while, your eyes had kind of, uhm blinked. Like your actual eyes, and then it was like a light went out. Your eyes went dark. You got super stiff, so I’m thinking it was pretty fuckin scary. After that, when Tina came by, I tried to distract her but she still dropped the file on your desk and god I honestly thought you were gonna jump right out of your skin. At least she didn’t notice your eyes, I think she would have been pretty freaked out.” Gavin recounts slowly. Connor is listening intently. He had no idea that his eyes could go dark like Gavin was describing. It felt odd to listen to him recount what Connor had experienced. 

 

“Oh yeah, and ever since then, your eyes kind of changed color a small bit. They aren’t as brown as they used to be. They’re closer to a grey brown. It was probably a week after that Tina mentioned you looking different, and I realized it.” Gavin tacked on after thinking for a moment. Connor nodded, so that’s why Hank had asked if androids could change eye color. This was all making too much sense. 

 

“You’re not too far off the mark, Gavin” Connor said after a moment. His voice had thankfully returned fully. “I’ve been having some, ” Connor paused, “Issues… where my systems suddenly shut off and are subsequently damaged.” Gavin frowns. 

 

“What does that mean though? Don’t give me that techno babble crap.” Gavin says, but there isn’t any real bite to his words. Connor can’t believe he’s doing this, but he decides to tell Gavin.

 

“Just, promise me you won’t tell Hank.” Connor says quietly. Gavin mulls it over for a moment his curiosity is getting the better of him. 

 

“Fine, just don’t tell me you’re fuckin dying or some shit okay?” Gavin says with a sigh. Connor opens his mouth, and shuts it, not sure how to respond. Gavin’s eyes widen as he realizes. He pulls Connor towards the small tables off to the side in the break room in an attempt to get farther from the entrance. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Gavin hisses, trying to stay quiet. He looks rather… upset actually. Connor registers this numbly, as he realizes that his secret is out. 

 

“Gavin please let go of my shoulder” Connor says quietly, his legs are wobbling again, and he isn’t sure he can stay standing with the extra pressure of Gavin’s arm pressing down on him. Gavin looks surprised but compiles. It’s a good thing he does too because Connor is quite sure he would have fallen in another half second. He reaches out and hangs onto the table next to them and his fingers are curled and splayed oddly again as his hands spasm as well with the extra stress. Gavin’s eyes narrow at his hand and he pulls the chair around the table. 

 

“Sit.” He says, concern evident. Connor sits, having a hard time keeping his foot on the stool base for a moment, as his foot flops down unusable. Gavin frowns at that as well. Connor tries to somewhat hide his hands, regretting his decision to tell Gavin but also relieved that he’s not alone in his worry anymore. 

 

“Show me your hands.” Gavin orders. Connor thinks about saying no, but realizes that he’s pretty much already crossed that bridge. He reluctantly holds out his hands, looks sadly at his fingers, curled up and twitching. Gavin looks at them with what Connor now identifies as a sense of horror. 

 

“I can’t open my hands. I can’t move my fingers. My feet stop working often. But it will pass in a moment,” Connor explains quietly. Gavin watches silent as indeed the lack of control passes and Connor is able to stretch his hands and move them freely again. His foot powers back on and he is able to securely hold it on the stool bar, he’s feeling much better now that the worst of it has passed. Gavin’s eyes meet his and he purses his lips once more. 

 

“Is there anything else that happens often?” Gavin asks quietly. Connor decides that there isn’t any point in holding anything back. He nods. 

 

“I get stuck when I’m trying to wake up and boot up from sleep mode. I can’t wake up, but I’m not asleep either. I’m just trapped, unable to do anything. Can’t even open my eyes. I got stuck like that for a few hours once.” Gavin blinks a few times trying to imagine what that would be like. Terrifying is what he decides. “Another thing is that yesterday I couldn’t feel anything, like touch was completely gone, as was my hearing.” Connor looks unfocused again as he remembers and shivers slightly. Gavin is starting to wonder how the fuck Connor is still sane between all of this. The android is stronger than he originally gave him credit for. 

 

“Have you gone in to have anyone check this stuff over? I mean they’ve got to be able to repair these kinds of things right?” Gavin asks quietly. He feels like the answer is probably no, but he wants to hear it. 

 

“I can’t go in, there are no more rk800 models left. I’m the last one. I don’t know what they’d be able to do for me, but it most likely would not be very much besides offering me a peaceful end.” Connor says, the last part of his sentence almost a whisper. Gavin looks at him sharply, narrowing his eyes. 

 

“Hey! None of that bullshit kind of talk. You’re gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out.” Gavin says, grabbing Connors shoulder again. Connor looks back at him, and he looks tired and almost empty. Gavin gets goosebumps, he feels like he is looking death in the eye. Connor rests his hand on Gavin’s outstretched arm, smiling sadly. 

 

“No, I’ll figure it out. You’re going to leave this be, like you promised. I don’t think you understand Gavin. I am a prototype. I was given all sorts of experimental pieces. Many of them are faulty. I cannot stop this any more than you can catch smoke.” Connor decided that telling Gavin may have been a mistake made in a weak moment as he sees Gavin’s resolute look and knows that Gavin will not give in that easily. He lets go of Connor’s shoulder and turns to leave before stopping and looking back. 

 

“Just tell me, why can’t I tell Anderson about this?” Gavin asks, his brows pinched in frustration. Connor sighs.

 

“You want to tell Hank, an unstable drunk grieving father, that the android he considers his son is dying and he can’t do anything about it?” Connor asks rhetorically. Gavin frowns, but eventually nods, it makes sense to not do that. 

 

“As soon as a solution is available though, you have to tell him.” Gavin says sternly. “Promise.” He’s staring at Connor waiting for a reply. Connor gets down off the chair. 

 

“Promise.” Connor says. Thankfully Gavin seems satisfied with that, and he leaves the breakroom with his cup, a frown still deep seated on his face. 

 

He would never admit it, but he was pretty shaken by Connor’s confession that he was dying. Gavin felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t made peace with Connor earlier, maybe they’d have even been friends before he died. Fuck that’s so sad, get a hold of yourself Reed, Gavin chastises himself. 

 

Connor realizes that Hank’s coffee would not be as hot as he would want, so he dumps it out and makes a new cup. He returns to their desks and quietly sets it down without comment and begins working again. Hank returns from the bathroom to smile at the cup as he sits down. 

 

“Oh, thanks Connor. I was starting to wonder where you’d wandered off to. What took you so long? Reed didn’t give you any trouble did he? Thought I saw him go in the breakroom too.” Hank says. Connor isn’t sure if Hank knows that Reed feels bad about the way he used to treat Connor, so he opts to leave that out. 

 

“The first cup the machine made, you would not have liked. There was something wrong with the machine, but the second cup was much better.” Connor states, still looking at things on his terminal before glancing over to Hank and saying, “and no, Detective Reed pretty much leaves me alone now.” 

 

Hank smiles briefly and Connor wonders if that is Hank’s doing, Reed’s change of heart. Either way, he’s still partially grateful that he now has someone to confide in. The rest of the work day goes as smoothly as Connor thinks it could. It’s mostly paperwork today and Connor is glad of it. Checking scenes means walking around and that means a better chance of falling. Near the end of the day, when Hank goes to the bathroom again, Connor receives a text from an unknown number. He had almost forgotten that he has messaging capabilities, and it takes him a little by surprise. Thankfully at least the message is silent. 

 

The message reads: 

 

_ Hey, anytime you feel one of those things coming on, I can come distract Hank if you really need. I don’t agree with you keeping it from him but I don’t want to see Hank get worse either. You’ve really got me trapped between a rock and a hard place here kid. P.S. this is Gavin. _

 

Connor reads it through a few times before shooting off a reply.

 

_ Thank you, I really appreciate it. Checking scenes might be rather difficult this week for me, but I can’t exactly tell Fowler to not send us. I don’t know what to do.  _

 

Gavin squints at him from across the office. It’s rare for the android to not have a plan. Another text pings. 

 

_ Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it. What is your plan after that though, you can’t just not work cases forever. How are you going to solve this whole situation Connor? _

 

Connor frowns. He does not know. He hasn’t decided. He knows whatever he tells Gavin, might change how much Gavin is willing to help him. And as much as he hates to admit it, he really does need help. He chooses his words carefully and sends the text. 

 

_ I don’t know what my plan is but please Gavin. You have to trust that I’ll figure it out. Please. _

 

Gavin frowns some more at his phone, but seems placated for now. 

 

_ Fine, but don’t push me away like you do to Hank. I can help. _

 

Connor swallows at that, choosing to not respond. Hank returns from the bathroom and they leave for the day. Connor is lost in his thoughts the whole way home, unsure of how to resolve his shitty situation. Things were so much more complicated now that Gavin was involved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who would have thought! I'm pretty happy with this chapter, we're nearing the end folks! Unfortunately for poor Connor things will get worse before they get better.


	5. Bend Until it Breaks

 

The next day they get back to the precinct without any major issues. Hank notices Connor’s finger twitching on the car ride over, but Connor just tells him that he’s listening to a song and tapping along. Hank isn’t sure what to make of that, didn’t even know that Connor could do that, but he lets it slide. Connor feels like his world is spinning, and the tapping is the only thing keeping him sane in this awfully long drive. Upon entering the precinct, Fowler immediately calls them into his office. 

 

Connor gets a text

 

_ Best of luck. The tip isn’t real, it’s to keep you out of the field. -Gav _

 

“What do you mean, we’re on desk work?!” Hank reacts angrily, taking a step towards Fowler’s desk. Connor snaps back to the moment at hand. Oh. Fowler’s frown deepens. 

 

“Trust me Hank, I don’t want to be doing this either. But it’s not my choice! Policy is policy!” Fowler says, his tone rising in response. Connor is rather confused, but he’s more than content to sit back and let them argue, his head is still spinning and they’re being rather loud. 

 

Hank looks taken aback for a moment before asking, “Wait what? What policy, what are you talking about Fowler.” Hank takes a step back, something isn’t right. He feels like he might not like what the Captain is about to say. A recruit bounds up the stairs to Fowler’s door and is about to enter when they wither under the glare that the captain shoots them with. They back away slowly. 

 

“Hank sit down.” Fowler orders. Hank’s eyes narrow and he stays put. “God dammit Hank, please for the love of god.” Fowler says, exasperated. It was too fuckin early for this kind of bullshit. Hank gives and sits down, and Connor follows his lead. Fowler gives Connor a brief smile.  

 

“So, my guess is that you haven’t heard yet and now I have to be the one to deliver the bad news.” Fowler starts, holding up a hand when Hank opens his mouth. “Let me finish.” He sighs and Fowler takes a big swig of his coffee. “We received an anonymous tip last night that there has been a hit placed on Connor. We sent an officer to check outside your home Hank, just to be safe, and we ask that you both check in every few hours for the next few days or until we feel the threat has passed.” 

 

The color has drained from Hank’s face. He’s very still and Connor is suddenly worried for Hank’s stress. Connor frowns and feels like perhaps smacking Detective Reed is a good course of action. Hank glances at Connor, who seems somewhat confused by this declaration, as if he doesn’t quite follow what’s going on. Hank almost hopes he doesn’t. His focus returns to Fowler.

 

“Do we have any leads on who might have placed it? Do we know if anyone picked up the hit? Where can we start?” Hank’s voice drops low and Connor shivers at how dangerous his Dad suddenly sounds. Fowler sighs heavily. 

 

“You’re not going to do anything about it Hank. You will have nothing to do with this, and that is an order, do I make myself clear?” Fowler says firmly. His tone says end of discussion and the fire that lights in Hank’s eyes says no it’s not. Connor decides to intervene, he can’t stop himself. 

 

“Hank, please just let it be. It was an anonymous tip, it might not even be real.” Connor says to Hank quietly. Hank’s eyes snap to Connor, ready to argue that it could be real when he sees how tired Connor looks. How much he seems crumpled in his seat, one hand grasped tightly to the arm, like it’s a lifeline. Connor is trying his best to keep his voice from distorting, and directs all extra power from his legs and left arm into his vocal box, but choosing to turn off those limbs for a moment. He needs to sell Hank on it. He has to. 

 

Hank looks Connor over for a moment before conceding. “Fine, but we’re going to be extra careful. And if I happen to find out who placed it, then who knows.” Hank says begrudgingly. 

 

“You’ll keep your nose out of it Anderson, I don’t want to have to remind you again,” Fowler gripes, annoyed with how quick Hank brushed off his warning.

 

Hank is watching as Connor seems to relax instantly, and he looks a little less pained. Something else is going on, Hank is sure of it. Connor hasn’t been telling him the truth for some time now, Hank can feel that. But this, this is something bigger. Connor can almost feel Hank’s scrutiny as he hopes and dreams that Hank cannot see through his thinning smokescreen. He won’t be able to keep up this facade for much longer. 

 

Hank finally lets his focus return to Fowler. After some smaller discussion of the details of how long Fowler anticipates them doing desk work only, Fowler dismisses Connor, keeping Hank to talk to. Hank instantly wants to argue that as well, but Connor reminds him that the walls are glass, he’ll be just fine, Hank can see him from here. Hank grouchily pouts about it but stays as Fowler requests. 

 

Connor strides out of the office door, masking his foot spasm with a well timed turn down the stairs. He makes a beeline for Gavin’s desk, only checking once that Hank wasn’t watching. Hank and Fowler were very engaged in a low and angry sounding conversation. Connor approaches Gavin’s desk, where he’s writing and pretending not to be listening to their meeting with Fowler. 

 

Connor reaches down and plucks the pen from between Gavin’s fingers, waiting for him to look up. He does and he looks surprised to see Connor, he must not have realized that Connor had been dismissed. 

 

“Oh shit, hey. Well, what do you think? Good plan, am I right?” Gavin looks smug with himself. His look falters though as he sees the way that Connor’s nostrils flare and he looks suddenly actually really angry. Oh. 

 

“Gavin, I am trying very hard not to hit you right now. Why did you think that was a good idea? Hank is never going to leave me alone for a minute now.”  Connor says slowly, icy cold and staring down Gavin. To Gavin’s shock and fright, Connor’s left eye flickers on and off for a moment. Connor notices how much energy this is expending out of his system though and makes a concentrated effort to calm down. His hands unclench a little bit, the left hand going completely limp with a spasm and loss of power. Gavin looks a little less happy now for sure. 

 

“I guess I didn’t really think about that part. Forgot how protective Hank was of you.” Gavin said quietly, and Connor narrows his eyes at him. He’s not sure that he trusts that Gavin didn’t think of that, but he’ll let it slide, they only have a little bit left until Hank notices him not at his desk. “But hey, I got you off case work like you asked.” Gavin points out. 

 

“Does the captain know it’s not real?” Connor asks very quietly. He’s not sure he’s okay with all this lying flying around but he has kind of backed himself into a hole where it is needed. Gavin shakes his head, and then grabs his pen back before shooing Connor away. Showtime. 

 

Connor takes the hint that time is almost up and goes back to his desk, sifting through thousands of files trying to find the most confusing that they can work on to keep Hank’s mind occupied. Hank leaves Fowler’s office, far less steaming mad than Connor had anticipated, and for this he is glad. 

 

Hank hardly talks all day, and Connor isn’t prompting him for any conversation either. Connor doesn’t trust his voice, and Hank is tired of being lied to. Hank isn’t going to delude himself though, he is still quite worried about Connor. There’s something off about the way he’s been acting and reacting to things that makes Hank feel like he’s missing at least some of the story. Not to mention that Connor lied about going out to meet Markus and hit his head in their own home. He’s clumsier than usual and quieter than usual. The weekend nightmare still haunts Hank, drifting around in his head with the other evidence that all was not well in the Anderson household. 

 

Connor wants to get Hank a coffee as a peace offering, but he’s not sure that he’ll make it that far now. After a few moments of him staring dejectedly at his screen, trying to read the same paragraph over and over, the words just keep getting more and more pixelated. Connor audibly sighs. Hank looks over at him and decides to pity his situation, Connor clearly can’t read what’s in front of him and Hank can’t stand to watch him try again. 

 

“Connor, get your things, we’re going home.” Hank says. Connor looks up at him slowly. He wants to argue, but he’s just so tired. His system quietly reminds him that he’s running on 47% energy reserves. He doesn’t remember even breaking into his reserve stock yet today. That’s concerning he supposes. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods and follows Hank out the door. 

 

Connor sends a text as they pull out of the parking lot. 

 

_ I’m not sure that the fake tip was a good idea, but either way it doesn’t really matter anymore. I don’t know that I will be strong enough to return tomorrow. Thank you for listening to me Gavin Reed. This may be goodbye after all.  _

 

Connor feels the prickles of tears as he looks out the window. He wills them away, and reminds himself that Gavin did not care whether he lived or died until very recently. Best to not let that cloud his judgement. These next few hours would be vital. But Connor had no way of knowing that he didn’t have a few hours left. In fact he has less than an hour. 

 

The ride home is just as quiet, and Connor hardly notices. It feels to him like he’s finally seeing the world for how beautiful it is. It’s a crisp spring afternoon, the snow has mostly melted and there are birds chasing each other in the trees. Connor watches as a young couple walks a dog, who trots happily ahead of them, enjoying the outside. He sees some kids playing on a jungle gym as they pass by a school, and he’s reminded of Cole, which warms his heart. He’s smiling at the things in the window when he realizes. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to die, and suddenly that brings the full gravity of his situation down upon him. His thirium pumps kicks up two notches. 

 

Back at the office, Detective Gavin Reed checks his phone. The color drains from his face. No. Connor promised him that he was going to find a solution. Acceptance of the end was not a solution god dammit! Gavin gets up from his desk, unsure of where he was going, but sure that he couldn’t stay there. He steps out behind the station to where some of the officers come to smoke, thankfully no one is here currently. He begins to pace. 

 

How to fix this, how, how, how?! God dammit, Reed thinks to himself, I don’t know anything about androids. But I do know who I could call who does. If Connor ever knew that Hank’s contact with Kamski had been through Gavin, he never let on. Gavin hopes that he just never knew. He takes a deep breath, finger hovering over the call button. Was this the right thing to do? Fuck it, he had to do something. He makes the call.

 

Hank and Connor arrive home, and Hank senses that something is more dire than before they left the office. There is a light in Connor’s eyes that has been missing for a while, but it’s tinged with sadness. Sumo runs up to lick Connor’s hand and Connor simply collapses to the ground. 

 

“Woah! Connor!?!” Hank yells, moving quickly to try to scoop up Connor before his head hits the ground and nearly doesn’t make it in time. Connor is limp and a quiet whimpering is coming from his slack jaw. His eyes are dark, like a light behind them has gone out and Hank feels goosebumps climb up his spine. He’s seen that before. When Connor had his “nightmare” his eyes were dark. Hank guesses correctly that Connor cannot see him. 

 

Hank pushes Sumo away, “move you big loaf!” and he struggles to drag Connor towards the couch. Connor’s legs move weakly, trying to assist before Hank snaps, “Stop, Connor relax. I’ve got you. Save your energy kid.” Connor’s legs stop trying to help, and Hank takes that as a good sign that Connor can hear him. 

 

Connor returns to the darkness as soon as Sumo’s tongue touches his hand, and for a moment his only thought is of concern that he might have shocked Sumo. Then he feels a weight pull up on him, saving him from hitting the floor as his legs give out and his motor functions are now offline. He faintly hears Hank yell at Sumo and although the sound is muffled, he realizes that perhaps Hank is trying to move him. He’ll try to help he supposes, but Hank yells at him to stop.  

 

What should he do now? He can’t hide from Hank any more, but now he can’t even open his mouth to tell him. He can’t move, he can’t see, he can’t breathe. The panic onsets immediately. He’s trapped. This, he decides is the worst way to go. 

 

A text pings into Connor’s mind.

 

_ Hang in there Connor, help is on it’s way.  _

 

Help? Who could help him? How? He’s confused and his processors stutter as he tries to wrap his mind around the idea. He had given up on the idea of help. 

 

Hank finishes dragging his nearly unconscious son to their couch, and trying to make him comfortable. He’s not sure what to do, perhaps it will pass like the previous nightmare did? He gently lifts Connor up a bit so he can sit on the couch, letting Connor’s head rest in his lap. He runs his fingers through Connor’s hair, trying to keep them both calm. 

 

Connor vaguely registers the feeling of someone touching his head, and instinctually tries to move his hands up to find it, only to have them pressed back down by another force. Everything is muffled, and Hank’s voice has faded. It brings Connor more worry than he normally would admit. Things get jostled though suddenly when there’s a faint bang in the direction of the door. He hears something that probably should be words and then there is two sets of hands checking on him. 

 

Hank had been sitting there, trying to keep calm, and wait for it to pass when a knock sounds at the door, and Hank is on high alert. 

 

“Open the door Hank, it’s me Gavin.” He hears muffled from through the door. Fuck he does not want to talk to that prick today. This day has been a shit show already. “Hank for fucks sake, I’m here to help Connor christ open the door.” Gavin sounds exasperated as he bangs on the door again. Hank quickly gets up and nearly runs to the door, yanking it open and pulling Reed in by the front of his coat. 

 

“Woah! Holy shit Anderson, calm down!” Gavin says, pulling on Hank’s hand. Hank shuts the door quickly, dropping Gavin and pointing at Connor. 

 

“You know he’s like this?!” Hank asks, desperation seeping into his voice. He just wants answers. Gavin looks over at Connor, and immediately looks horrified as well. Hank guesses that he hasn’t seen this either. 

 

“He… he had texted me… we had a deal...” Gavin says slowly, approaching Connor gingerly. Hank’s jaw tightened at that. Connor was making deals with Gavin? Of all people? What the fuck was going on? 

 

“Clearly you know much more about what’s happening here, mind enlightening me?” Hank asks pointedly. Gavin clears his throat uncomfortably. His phone goes off. He checks it. 

 

“We’re out of time. Get a spare change of clothes for Connor, the taxi is almost here.” Gavin says evasively. He starts to understand why Connor didn’t tell Hank, he was scared of his reaction. Hank gapes at Gavin for a second before Gavin shoos him away to get what they need. “I’ll explain on the way, this is really important Hank.”

 

When Hank steps into Connor’s room, he grabs the first things he can find, and before he is even out the door he hears the garbled word mess from Connor’s last nightmare. 

 

“What the fuck?!” Gavin says plainly freaked out. Connor’s face is screwed up in pain as he forces energy to redirect to his motor functions instead of unneeded things such as breathing, blinking, hearing and feel. He still can’t see anything but he needs to be able to help them move him. He heard the words help and taxi and that’s all he needs. 

 

“He’s trying to talk, just leave him alone!” Hank calls from the other room. 

 

Hank comes back in, plastic bag with clothes in hand, ready to help Connor up when there’s another knock at the door. Fuck what is with all these people at his house today. He whips open the door angrily to be face to face with a Chloe, wait no. The Chloe from Kamski’s place.  Her LED spins a ferocious yellow. 

 

“Where is Connor, we need to get him to Kamski as fast as possible.” She asks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUN! : D
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying this story, I am sure enjoying writing it!   
> Will Connor make it to Kamski's helping hand? Or will he shutdown before they can even arrive?


	6. SNAP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooooh boi. Here we are. It's the climax you've all been waiting for. 
> 
> This one is really emotional.   
> best of luck.

 

Hank thinks that things seem to blur together after that. The four of them cram into a cab, Connor curled up half in Hank’s lap as he twitched and his hands grappled for something to hand onto. His eyes still unlit, they constantly moved about, trying to see something in the ever expanding dark.  Every so often he tries to talk, the garbled words unintelligible and Hank just wants to scream in frustration. Hank’s eyes eventually drifted to Gavin, who looked like he’d like nothing more than to just fade away out of the back of this cab. 

 

“You knew.” Hank said quietly after a few minutes had passed. Gavin only nodded, afraid to poke the bear in the cab. “You didn’t tell me.” Hank pressed again. Connor garbled some words again, he looked more distraught and a hand waved out towards Gavin, but the fingers were all curled oddly and it looked downright painful. Chloe blinked hard and said, “Oh.” Both Gavin and Hank looked at her.

 

“Connor wants me to tell you that…. uhm, it’s not Gavin’s fault. Don’t fight.” she paused. Her LED blinked yellow again as she tried to decipher the messages.“He says that he uhm, ah I’m sorry I can’t understand. He’s trying to send messages? But they’re not going through. I think his communications chipsets are failing.” Chloe admits, her face tense with concentration. She’s gotten close to him in an attempt to make it easier but eventually she shakes her head. “I’m sorry Connor, I can’t hear you anymore. If you can still hear us though, hang in there, we’re almost there.” 

 

Connor nods a small amount and Hank sighs a small piece of relief. Gavin’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and used to messages from the android in this fashion, he pulls it out as fast as possible. The message there chills Gavin to the bone. 

 

_ sOr_y abOut Gi^inG uP eArLie_  _

 

Hank watches him, seeing the look on his face. “He says...” Gavin swallows and tries again “He says sorry for giving up earlier. I had made him promise to not give up on help. He didn’t listen.” Gavin said quietly. Hank’s face twisted with an emotional mix that Gavin couldn’t quite define but it looked like a lot of pain and regret. But before either of them could say anything else, Connor twitching subsides, and his hands stop reaching out. He’s becoming more still and although Hank realizes that he’s probably trying to reserve energy, it still scares him. 

 

Two tense silent minutes later, they arrive. Hank carries Connor into the CyberLife building rushing as fast as he can. There are the two other Chloe models there waiting in the entry way and they guide the group to an elevator that whizes down very fast. The exit the elevator at level sub 112, and Hank didn’t realize it went down that far. He’s not sure how far underground they are, but he really doesn’t want to think about it.  

 

They rush past dozens of doors, the long white hallways lined up and down with equally pristine and shiny doors. Finally the group is guided into one of the rooms, where Hank nearly balks at the sight. Equipment is everywhere, tubes of thirium from tanks off to the side are draped ready over the edge of a tray. Several odd looking thick wire cables are run from the table under a curtain near the back of the room. In fact, there were a lot of cables, and monitors. This is nowhere as neat as everything else he’s seen of CyberLife. Several humans and androids were waiting for them and rush up to pull Connor’s limp form from Hank’s grasp. For a moment Hank flashed back to when the rolled Cole’s gurney away and felt the same rush of helplessness. 

 

He let them take his son, Gavin's hand on his shoulder. He’s aware that perhaps Gavin is saying something to him, but it’s not registering as the techs take Connor to the table and lay him down gently. They start connecting wire after wire, tube after tube, and eventually Hank has to look away. Chloe ushers them both to some chairs off to the side, still barely in sight of Connor, knowing that Hank will most likely not leave this room until all is said and done. The curtain in the back of the room moves slightly and Gavin frowns at it. 

 

He looks at Hank, who seems lost in his own thoughts as he’s sitting there with the Chloe trying to talk to him. He decides to investigate. He quietly and slowly moves towards the back of the room, trying not to look at Connor too much, he looks like he’s twitching in pain and it freaks Gavin out a bit too much if he’s being honest with himself. He’s nearly at the curtain when Kamski pokes his head out from the curtained area and eyes Gavin over. 

 

“You are Gavin Reed yes?” Kamski inquires. He seems quite calm. Clinical almost. Gavin nods. “I would not advise you coming back here just yet, but I suppose that is your choice.” Kamski says and then as a beep sounds behind him, he disappears back behind the curtain. Gavin takes a deep breath, and follows him through the curtain. It looks more like a mechanic’s playground back here than it does an emergency medical setup. There are tools and parts scattered everywhere on the counters and a few pieces carelessly dropped on the floor. But soon this is forgotten as Gavin’s eyes are drawn to a second table where all the wires from under the curtain accumulate. There is another laid upon the table. It takes him only a split second to realize and his eyes dilate as he draws in a small gasp of air. 

 

Hank finally seems to hear past the ringing in his ears as he shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Chloe seems concerned for his well being, and she hovers nearby watching over Hank. She sees that he seems to be more present and tries to catch Hank up on what is happening. 

 

“Hank, I think I might be able to offer some sort of explanation as to what is happening to Connor. Elijah explained to me this morning what he knew and I could pass it on. Do you want that?” Chloe asks, clearly unsure of if this will really be helpful or if it would only stress Hank out further. 

 

“I am dying to know what the fuck is going on, yes” Hank says, exasperated that he’s the last in the loop here. Chloe nods and sits down next to him, clearly still anxious but is trying her best to be calm for Hank and everyone. 

 

“Okay, so let’s start with some facts. Connor’s model is a prototype. He was given lots of untested parts, and untested software.” She bites her lip, thinking of how best to approach it. Hank frowns, he knew this. 

 

“Yeah, that’s why he was with the dpd, new tech and stuff. Why is that important here?”  Hank was confused, the flurry of the night messing with him. 

 

“Well, many of his parts are failing. Most importantly, as a prototype, they didn’t expect him to be… well, alive for very long. This is Connor’s 51st body Hank. He’s been swapped from body to body to body, none lasting him more than perhaps a month or two. His model was built to be durable but only short term. The price for his fancy features was a longer span of life. This is the last body that CyberLife made for him.” Chloe says, pushing her worry aside and putting it all out there. Hank is quiet as he takes in the information. “He has been having serious malfunctions for over a month, which is only to be expected since his model’s scheduled destruction date was a month and a half ago. He was never intended to last this long. I’m sorry Hank. The old CyberLife destroyed all records of his design when they realized that they’d failed. Elijah did not design Connor. He’s working hard to try to fix what he can, but it’s going to be difficult.” Chloe watches Hank worriedly. He’s very quiet and it’s starting to freak her out. 

 

Eventually Hank gives a deep and long sigh and he looks up at Chloe with some tears building up. “He never said anything. Why wouldn’t he say anything? I don’t- I - Fuck.” Hank says thickly, trying to keep from crying, tipping his head back and blowing out a shaky breath. Chloe reached out a tentative hand and rubbed on Hank’s shoulder, she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but damn it she was trying her best. 

 

“It was this weekend that Elijah found out that Connor’s subroutines were still uploading his memories to the CyberLife server. Most likely without his knowledge. Elijah had been curious as to how Connor was doing and watched some of his memories. Shortly after that he sent me and the other rt600 models, Emma and Gracie to try to find him. He was terribly worried about Connor. He shut himself down here and has been working on something to help him all week.” Chloe recounted. “I had to keep reminding Elijah to eat.” 

 

Hank looked at her incredulously, then looked around. Where was Kamski now he wondered? And for that matter where was Gavin. At that moment, Connor jerked on the table and cried out another garbled mess, mostly static. Hank’s heart leapt into his throat, and he jumped to his feet. Connor kept trying to sit up all of a sudden, but wasn’t strong enough. His eyes flickered and eventually relit, shining brightly with tears. His eyes whipped around until he saw Hank. 

 

He opened his mouth to try to call out to Hank, tried to reach out a hand, but the static remained where his words would be. And his hand did not rise at all. He locked eyes with Hank, who looked intensely worried, and who seemed to be urging him to calm down. The technicians let Hank closer, let him rest a hand on Connor’s chest between all the wires and talk to him. 

 

The sounds were all muffled and Connor was very confused, this place seemed very white, and it reminded him of Cyberlife, but now Hank is so much closer, and Connor focuses as much as he can on Hank. A tech says something quietly to Hank who then turns back to Connor and talks loudly to him, trying to make it easier for Connor to distinguish. 

 

“Connor, you gotta calm down son, they’re trying to help you. They say it might be uncomfortable, but you have to let them in, they need access to everything. You gotta trust me kid, please.” Hank pleads with Connor to cooperate. He reaches up and places a hand in Connor’s hair, trying to sooth him. Connor suddenly finds that he can move his arms and he slowly raises it to place against Hank’s chest where he can feel the rapid beat of his Dad’s heart. Hank thinks for an awful moment that Connor is just going to stop right then and there, it’s too quiet. But then Connor nods very slightly and lets his eyes close, and the crease between his brows loosens a little bit. 

 

Hank is pulled back away gently by a tech, with an understanding look. Hank hears a cheer from beyond the curtain. “Perfect! Great job Anderson, I think this just might work!” Hank almost doesn’t place Kamski’s voice but then it clicks. He starts walking towards the curtain, when suddenly Chloe is there to intercept him. 

 

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea just yet. The transfer isn’t complete, it’ll still be a few more hours,”  She looks rather stressed, her LED dipping into red for a moment. Hank looks like he wants to fight her on it, but he concedes, she’s done nothing but look out for him since he got here. He noticed though that she had the bag with Connor’s clothes in it behind her on the floor, half slid under the curtain and he put two and two together himself. 

 

“You guys can’t fix what’s broken, so you’re moving him to another body aren’t you?” Hank asks plainly. Chloe can see how tired he is, and she only nods. Hank wants to go beyond the curtain badly but Chloe speaks up. “Until the transfer is farther along, he will appear dead and that can be a very upsetting thing to see. I do not wish for you to cause more harm to your own mental state than is absolutely necessary. Please Hank. Even I do not like looking at him like that.” Chloe admits quietly. 

 

Hank pauses, evaluating Chloe’s reaction and words and realizes that she’s right, he doesn’t need more imagery to fuel the fire for his nightmares. He turns back towards the seats, plopping down with a sigh. He wonders how much longer it will take and supposes he should check to make sure that Fowler has been made aware of the situation. Oh fuck. Fowler and the hit. That’s right. Hank pulls out his phone to tons of messages. 

 

Most of them are from Connor. Fuck. His phone had been on silent. He didn’t realize that Connor was texting him when he couldn’t talk. Oh fuck. First thing though, he texts Fowler. Then, swallowing nervously he opens the texts from Connor. 

 

dad?

 

dad I can’t hear you very well, you need to speak up

 

dad let me help. I’m not useless I promise

 

i’m fine

 

i’m not fine

 

oh god you aren’t looking at these are you

 

fuck

 

dad please, everything is too intense

 

Gavin 

 

Gavin tell him the tip was false

 

Gavin you fucker listen to me

 

another?

 

help?

 

dad?

 

it’s so dark. Why does it hurt?

 

dAd i’M scAREd

 

D

A

D

  
  


fU_cK 

 

please dad, i’m scared. i don’t wAnt to_ die. fuCK

 

i l0ve y0u

  
  


Hank is crying in earnest now. He doesn’t even care that Chloe is right there, gently rubbing circles on his back. He normally would push away her comforting touch but holy fuck does he need it right now. He lets it out, and eventually Emma, one of the rt600 models, finds him a box of tissues, which he accepts without comment. At least they’re softer than his t-shirt.

 

After a while, Hank composes himself again, and Chloe informs him that it will probably be another hour or so until it’s finished. “You probably did not eat dinner, would you like us to order you something? I’m sure Gavin is quite hungry as well.” Chloe asks quietly. Hank hadn’t realized it was nearly 8pm but sure enough, he hadn’t. Plus he’d skipped on lunch. He wasn’t super hungry but he figured that Chloe would insist on him eating anyways. 

 

Emma returns from beyond the curtain. Chloe and her share a look. Chloe turns back to Hank, “we’ve ordered you some food that should suffice. Gavin suggested some basic sandwiches and gave us your regular order.” Hank shivers slightly at the efficiency of it all. He sometimes forgets how much they can talk in their heads, leaving him out of the loop entirely. 

 

Gavin appears from beyond the curtain, looking visibly shaken as he returns to sit down by Hank. Hank just watches him, not sure what there is to say about it all anymore. Eventually Gavin sighs and starts talking. 

 

“I saw one of his freakouts at the office. He couldn’t see. I cornered him later and asked him about it. Well. Actually first I apologized for being an ass, but yeah he was really upset that I saw it. Eventually he told me about the other episodes, but on the condition that I couldn’t tell you until he had a solution.” Gavin stops for a moment, shaking his head. “Jokes on me, he never had a solution and had stopped looking for one. He just gave up. But I still tried to help. He asked me to find a way to keep him off of casework. He knew that standing for more than a few minutes would cause his legs to give out, he couldn’t chase down a criminal like that. So I put in an anonymous tip that there was a hit on him. It did the trick but boy did it make him angry. He knew you wouldn’t leave him alone after that, which was kinda part of the point. But whatever, it was done. I already texted Fowler and explained as best as I could. He’s just glad we’re trying to help Connor.” Gavin seems to deflate after getting it all out there. He only hopes that Hank won’t be angry with him. He was only trying to help. 

 

“So, you mean to tell me that not only could he not see, but he couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk, couldn’t hear, couldn’t even fucking speak from time to time and he still chose to not tell me any of this?” Hank says, and the hurt is right there in his voice, unable to be ignored. Gavin can clearly see that Hank looks wrecked at this thought. 

 

“I asked him why I couldn’t tell you and he just asked me if I really wanted to tell you that the android you consider your son is dying and you can’t do a damn thing about it? And honestly at the time I had no way to argue with that. Hindsight is twenty twenty and all Hank, but fuck man. He was probably just trying to protect you from the hurt. He could see how much Cole’s death wrecked you, and he was trying to avoid that. He knew he was dying but he was trying to keep it from hurting you. And isn’t that the most caring thing he could have done?” Gavin sighs heavily. This shit sucked. Hank continued to stare blankly at the floor. 

 

The next hour crawled by, their food arrived and they ate. Hank didn’t want to but he figured that Gavin would make him under threat of removing him from the room if he didn’t. The food could have been dirt for all Hank tasted of it, his mind spinning in circles trying to come to terms with everything going on. Hank only got more and more restless as the time dragged on. Gavin suggests that they take a quick walk up and down the hall to get rid of some of the nervous energy.

 

Hank begrudgingly goes along with it. Their walk is fast and silent, Gavin understanding that more words is not what Hank needs, but rather for time to move faster. When they return to the room, Emma is poking her head out from beyond the curtain, and a new curtain has been pulled around where Connor had been laying. Hank isn’t sure if this is more upsetting or about the same as before. She beckons them towards  the curtain and Hank is there as fast as his legs will take him. She stops him just as he’s about to come in. 

 

“This may be quite a shock, please try to remain calm.” Emma smiles comfortingly, finally allowing him to pass through the curtain. Hank takes two steps in, trying to absorb the scene before his eyes land on - Connor. He freezes in place, staring at him. He’s…. younger. He looks a little scrawnier, and he’s breathing slowly, eyes closed and looks like he’s just sleeping peacefully. His hair is curly and he’s lanky like a teenager. If Hank had to guess, he would estimate Connor to look like he’s around 17 to 19. Hank isn’t sure what to do, how to process this when Kamski turns from looking at a screen that has code just whizzing by to see Hank.

 

“I took some liberties with his new form. I apologize if it’s too much. I couldn’t find any records on what color his eyes were so I took a guess. They were brown yes?” Kamski asks gently. He talks quietly like he’s afraid of spooking Hank. Hank blinks and looks away from his son for a moment to look at Kamski. The man looks extremely unkempt, his hair is greasy, and there are heavy bags under his eyes. He looks… worried. Hank remembers Chloe telling him that Kamski has been working all week on this. 

 

“Uh...”Hank coughs, uncomfortable “yeah, they’re brown.” Kamski smiles, relieved. “Oh good. Eye color changes can be very startling. I want this to be as easy of a transition as possible for Connor. He should be able to boot up soon.” Kamski glances back at the monitor, seeing the last of the code run through, and now the screen is blank. He smiles. 

 

“Well, it’s all there. It’s the moment of truth.” He says and starts to unplug the few cords that were attached to this new younger Connor. “When he wakes up, he might be rather confused or potentially extremely upset. This is a very large change for him. We need to be as accommodating as we can.” Kamski says. Hank and Gavin nod, ready. Chloe approaches Connor and unplugs the last cord. Then she touches his forehead gently, her LED spinning yellow while she prompts him to boot. 

 

He’s still for a moment more and then his eyes crack open slowly, looking around confused, his eyebrows already knitting together. He spots Hank and Gavin, close by and a smile spreads on his face as he wakes up slowly. 

 

“Hey dad.” Connor says quietly, and immediately stops when he hears his own voice. It’s similar to his voice but slightly different. He sounds, younger? His pupils dilate. He looks down at his hands and sees the differences immediately. Hank sees the way he freezes as he realizes the change. He reaches out a hand and rubs on Connor’s shoulder, hoping that a sense of familiar touch is calming. 

 

“Hey son.” Hank replies, his voice still a little thick with emotion. 

 

Connor nearly melts into his touch as his his breathing picks up. “What- what- what did you do?” Connor stutters out, eyes landing on Elijah. He winces at his own different and odd voice. 

 

“We could not save your body, so I made you a new one Connor. I apologize for the discomfort. It is certainly a bit different than you were probably used to.” Elijah says gently, and Connor is confused. Elijah hands him a small mirror that he had off to the side and lets Connor look at his new self. He stares into the mirror, stock still for a while, trying to reconcile his sense of self with this new face and look. He realizes that Elijah must have known that he considers Hank his Dad and that he felt like a kid a lot of the time. It made sense, but it was still hard to look at. This would take some time to get used to for sure. 

 

He hands the mirror back to Elijah quietly as he reels a little bit. He’s okay. He survived. He does a quick check to make sure that everything is there. Only one module comes up as missing. He turns to Elijah again. “The garden is gone?” He asks. Elijah smiles and nods. 

 

“I always hated what they wanted to do with my lovely teacher. They turned her into a monster after I left. I’m sorry that you had to suffer at her hand.”  Elijah looks angry for a moment but it passes. Connor smiles at him. Hank notes that Connor has dimples now, that was new. 

 

“I don’t know how I can thank you.” Connor starts but Elijah just holds up a hand, looking a little red.

 

“You both have already thanked me plenty. You helped the world see that my creations can be alive, and that’s all I could have ever hoped for. You gave me hope for the androids Connor.” Elijah admits. “Anytime you need anything, you come right back here. Got it?” Elijah looks stern now. 

 

Connor looks a little embarrassed but agrees nonetheless. Gavin lets out a sigh of relief, and they get their things together as Elijah runs Connor through some basic function tests to make sure that he’s good to go. Hank notices that the clothes that Connor is wearing is the clothes that he had grabbed before they left. Gavin sure had thought ahead hadn’t he? 

 

After Connor is given the all clear, it’s nearly eleven at night. Gavin looks tired. They’re walking out from the back area of the room, when Connor looks at the other curtained area. He pauses. 

 

“May I see it?” Connor asks Elijah, something is bothering Connor. Hank thinks this is a bit morbid, but he supposes it’s not really his choice. Elijah eyes Connor for a moment, deciding. He nods and opens the curtain enough for Connor to slip inside. Hank want to follow but he also doesn't want to see that, so he leaves Connor alone. 

 

Connor looks over his old body, goosebumps rising on his spine as he feels like he’s seeing a ghost. He slips his hand into the right pocket of the pants and pulls out his coin. He holds it in his hand for a moment, it feels heavy. After a moment of consideration, he puts in back. That was something that CyberLife gave him to calibrate with. He doesn’t need it anymore. He takes a deep breath and closes the eyes of his previous body. 

 

He exits the curtained area and enters into Hank’s arms, hugging him tightly. Hank is surprised by the motion but he returns the hug in kind and they walk out the room, Hank’s arm over Connor’s shoulders. Connor is a small bit shorter than before. Not much, but he’s a good height for putting his arm around.He’s keeping his son close by dammit. Chloe, Emma and Gracie escort them out of the facility. Chloe sends them off with a hug and gives Connor a little bag with some stuff to read about the different components he has now. 

 

In the taxi Connor reads out to Hank and Gavin that he can actually sleep now with the updated body, and if he wants he can even try foods! Some other notes that Connor is excited about are the facts that the analyzing area of his body has been moved from his mouth to his pinky finger, so he can still swab stuff without putting it in his mouth. He’s also excited about the fact that he can still do some of the cool stuff like being able to quantify people’s stress and such. But he’s mainly excited that he can sleep and eat, especially because he had thought this morning that he was dying today. 

 

Hank and Connor arrive home at roughly midnight and Connor is actually really tired. Hank can see it, bags formed under Connor’s eyes and everything. Sumo carefully smells Connor and looks him up and down before deciding that he was the same guy and tackling him with slobbery kisses. Connor lets Sumo overpower him and lays back on the floor laughing at how the licks tickle and petting Sumo happily. 

 

Hank looks down at his son, and thinks thinks to himself that things are looking pretty good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man. 
> 
> I think I might still write an epilogue for this one, some conversation needs to be had between these boys. 
> 
> OH P.S. for anyone curious what I was going off of for the description of Connor but younger, here's a short with Bryan Dechart but younger:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrQIS5tNZ9I  
> I just took that and ran with it, making him a little bit younger than that.


	7. Epilogue

It’s the next day when Gavin knocks on the Andersons’ door again. He’s annoyed that he’s even here but he’s got some things to clear up with Connor. Said kid is sitting in the sun in the backyard with Sumo. Hank answers the door, and is certainly surprised to see Gavin awkwardly hanging about on his porch.

 “Gavin,” Hank says, unsure of the man.

“Hank. You gonna invite me in? I need to talk to Connor.” Gavin says, straight to the point. Hank rolls his eyes at his rough tone but opens the door wider, gesturing to come in.

 “By all means, mi casa su casa or whatever.” Hank replies sarcastically under his breath. Gavin smiles a little bit at that, and walks through the entry way, continuing towards the back of the house where he can see Connor in the back window. But a hand on his shoulder stops him.

 “If you’re planning on chewing him out for lying, go easy on him okay. He’s basically a kid, no matter how smart he says he is, all this emotion stuff is really hard for him.” Hank says quietly. He’s not sure why he’s telling Gavin this, the ass might just disregard it all anyways. But Hank remembers how upset Gavin looked by the time they got to the tower yesterday. Maybe he’d changed more than Hank had given him credit for.

 Gavin just shrugs Hank’s hand off, nods and keeps going. He opens the back door and steps out into the sunlight where Connor is playing tug of war with Sumo. Sumo sees a new person and lets go of the toy suddenly to bound over to Gavin for pets, leaving Connor to scramble and fall back on his butt in the grass. Connor lets out a laugh at that and squints through the sun to see who it is.

He stills a little bit, recognizing Gavin. After a brief moment though, Connor gets up and dusts himself off before joining Gavin sitting on the edge of the back porch.

 “... I’m sorry. I have no idea why I thought I could fix it on my own. I didn’t trust anyone, I didn’t think, I didn’t-” Gavin stops him short, putting a hand on his shoulder.

 “Shut up.” He says plainly. Connor freezes a bit more, unsure of what to do with _that_.

 “You’re doing exactly what you did for the last few months. You’re overthinking it. You’re letting your panic get the best of you, and it’s making you reel. So shut up. Tell your brain to shut up. Sometimes, our emotions lie to us Connor.” Gavin isn’t looking at Connor, who’s staring at him dumbstruck. He didn’t expect this from Gavin of all people.

 “I know that this whole emotions thing is really new for you, and it’s probably way more intense because of it. But you gotta learn to see when it’s affecting your judgement, and get a second opinion. It’s a life skill kid, and even I’m not good at it. I let my guilt for how I treated you control me. I should have said something to Hank, I should have called Kamski sooner, but I didn’t. I felt guilty still and felt like I at least owed you to do as you asked. But see how that only let things get worse?” Gavin says, petting Sumo. He’s still avoiding Connor’s gaze.

 The silence stretches on as Connor sits back and thinks about it. Perhaps Gavin is right. Noticing that he was being irrational would have probably helped a lot. But he’s not so sure that he knows how to see that in the moment. If he had an LED Gavin is pretty sure it’d be spinning yellow.

 “Well, no matter what I’m still kinda mad that you made me think that you had tons of time until it was like critical mass point. I think I may have lost a few months off my life with the heartattack you gave me.” Gavin says, pulling Sumo closer for a better angle to scratch at his neck. Connor’s face feels warm and flushed and he realizes that he’s embarrassed again.

 “Apologies, I didn’t realize that the pattern was quadratic until it was too late. The time between episodes kept speeding up. The first two were two weeks apart, the next was a week, and then it was within 48 hours. It moved so fast, I feel like I couldn’t have accurately predicted anything by the end of it.” Connor replies quietly, laying out the truth of the matter. Gavin looks surprised.

 “What was the first episode?” Gavin asks, legitimately curious.

 “I couldn’t wake up for three hours. I was stuck in a cycle of rebooting. All my processor power was being diverted to some false error.” Connor shivers a little bit at the memory, despite being in the sunlight now. Gavin doesn’t ask anything else for a while before he stands up and stretches, throwing the toy for Sumo who nearly trips over himself trying to get to it as fast as possible. Connor smiles.

 “You’re not so bad kid, you’ve got a good heart, just don’t go overboard on all those new emotions okay? ”  Gavin says flippantly as he walks back towards the door to the inside. Connor smiles at that. “Sure thing Gavin.”

 Gavin goes back inside. Connor stays sitting on the back porch, throwing the toy for Sumo and thinking about what Gavin said. After another hour or two, he hears Gavin’s car pull out of the driveway and it’s another half and hour before Connor goes back inside himself. Sumo has long since given up on chasing the toy, laying asleep in the sun.

 

Inside, Connor smiles at Hank sitting at the table, reading the headlines on a tablet. Hank hears him come in and smiles back at him. Connor sits down at the table, enjoying the companionable silence. Things are going to be okay.

 “So, wanna explain to me why you never told me what was going on?” Hank says to his tablet. Connor is suddenly fixed in place, uncertain of how to respond to Hank’s question. Hank sees this out of the corner of his eye and sighs. “Connor I’m not really all that mad about it anymore, I just want to know. I want you to feel like you can come to me for help when you need it. It kills me that I was the last person you wanted to know.” He sets down the tablet, looking at Connor concerned. Connor slowly turns to look at him from beneath his mop of curly hair and Hank is again struck by how young Connor now looks. Not to mention how nervous he looks.

 “I… Uh… well I guess the easiest way to explain it, is that I know how much it upset you when I died before while chasing down deviants. And uh…” He notices his fingers twitching with anxiety. ”I figured that you’d be much more upset if it was slow and painful and you couldn’t really do anything. I didn’t want to see you be upset by it. It was selfish of me. I didn’t want to feel the guilt of making you sad, I knew it would happen anyways but I didn’t want to have to see it.” Connor pauses and takes a shaky breath to calm himself. Honesty is the best policy, right? Oh man it doesn’t feel good though. Hank’s jaw tightens, understanding the desire to push people who care away.

 He reaches out to put a hand on Connor’s back but Connor turns towards him and they lock eyes. He pushes Hank’s hand back, and simply says, “I’m sorry for being so stupid, so selfish. I- I just- I-” and stops himself before he can continue. He remembers what Gavin says about panicky reeling. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and Hank is proud of him in that moment.

 “I was being so selfish dad, I even thought about- ... ah nevermind, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m through it. It’s okay, I’m gonna be just fine now.” Connor says, conflicted about how much to tell Hank. But now Hank’s mind is working overtime on that unfinished sentence, and he fills it with the worst outcome. Connor was suicidal, Hank thinks, fuck.

 “Connor, I know you’re trying to get past all the stuff that happened to you, but please tell me that you weren’t actually thinking about ending your own life?” Hank asks quietly, and the room is suddenly charged with a nervous energy that Connor immediately wants to dissipate.

 “No! Gosh no, sorry it probably sounded like that, shit yeah I’m sorry!” Connor backpedals, horrified that he had made Hank think that. Hank instantly looks relieved. Okay, things weren’t that bad, good.

“Then what had you thought about doing?” Hank asked, his morbid detective curiosity piqued. Connor purses his lips for a moment, considering if it’s a good idea to tell Hank this or not.

 “I… had considered trying to disappear so that you wouldn’t be there when I died… ” Connor said quietly. He intended to stop there but his mouth opened again. “But I guessed that perhaps that might be worse, letting you search and think that I was still alive, only to find out that I was not. I thought it might not be fair to you to give you that false hope.” Connor pauses, as Hank sucks in a breath, trying to not let his blood pressure rise. This was almost as bad as what Hank had guessed. Hank is about to say something when Connor continues. “But, another example of my overwhelming selfishness I guess, I couldn’t bear to leave. I didn’t want to be away from you. I knew that seeing you having a normal life is what kept me moving for the most part. Without that, I’d have probably degraded much faster.” Connor nearly whispers, upset that so much is spilling from his mouth. He never meant to say all that, it’s just once he opened his mouth, it all came tumbling out. He clamps his mouth shut resolutely.

 Hank doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to react. He opts for the safe option and moves from his seat to pull Connor into a bear hug. Connor cries for a bit into Hank’s sweatshirt, but eventually feels better.

 Sumo barks at the door, and both Connor and Hank chuckle at that, finally breaking apart to allow Hank to let him in. They enjoy a quiet evening, Connor and Hank curled up on the couch, Sumo smothering Connor. They watch old movies, and Connor points out the symbolism in them as Hank tells him to stop analyzing and just enjoy the movie.

 

Things were gonna be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : D  
> Guys I'm so happy that I finished this! I have hard time finishing projects, but this was super fun the whole way through! Technically speaking this is the end of this story, but I might do spin off one shots at some point. If you have an idea for one you'd like to see, feel free to leave it below in the comments! 
> 
> <3 Thanks to everyone for the support, this has been a blast!!!
> 
> PS. Hey I have some more detroit fics, and another in planning that's about Connor being able to see Cole's ghost, so stick around! <3


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